Wintery Season
by myloveimfaithfullyyours
Summary: While Nikki Heat may prefer bikinis, tanning spray, and hot lifegaurds over cashmere sweaters and heavy winter coats, Detective Kate Beckett may think otherwise. Just a pre-jingle bell season story. Please Review!
1. Santa With A Tan

a/n: After a terrible Nutcracker audition (I am so mad. So mad. It's not even funny) I realized I watched reruns of Bones. I watched the holiday episodes from season 1 and 3, and suddenly I was super excited to see the holiday episodes for Castle!!! (They better make one!) Anyway, a little, pre-jingle bell season story.

Please review!!!

Wintery Season

"You know, I really like the winter." Detective Kate Beckett broke the silence as the first snow of the season began to fall. The grounds were just beginning to get coated in what resembled a light layer of powdered sugar on top of strawberry shortcake.

"Why?" Richard Castle asked as he jogged up next to her, trying to keep up. The two were slowly making their way to a crime scene in the middle of the park.

"I don't really know, it's…" She paused trying to find the right words to describe what she was trying to say. "People rave about the summer all the time. Vacations to Hawaii, Tahiti, the Bahamas, Florida, but in the winter, they all just hide out in their homes and wait for the holidays to come around."

"So?"

"So…I think that winter can be just as enjoyable as summer."

"Summer means sun, Beckett. Sun means less clothing, do you see my chain of thought here?" Joked, Castle.

Kate smirked. "Sun means getting sunburned."

"You can get sunburned in the winter, too. Besides, it's cold in the winter, which means jackets, and coats and cashmere sweaters, and hats, and scarves, and heavy boots that clunk everywhere…it's so…expensive." Castle realized, calculating the cost for all his winter supplies in his head.

"And summer is not?" Kate inquired.

"Buy a bikini, and you're reading to go, go, go!"

"What about all that plastic surgery, and leg waxes, and bikini waxes, and tanning beds, and tanning lotion, and finding just the right bikini could cost more than two winter coats." Kate countered.

"What about all that holiday shopping?"

"You're rich! I like it; it puts festivity into the year. People just don't shop like that for luau decorations."

"Winter's lonely." Castle shrugged, kicking an out-of-place stick in the icy grass.

"What about all those songs with the families and their children waiting for Santa?"

"It's romantically dead."

"Is not. Summer is fatal for romance."

"Uh, hello, 'summer lovin'?' Grease?" Castle began to sing the tune, and Kate suppressed a laugh.

"_I don't wanna lot for Christmas…" _Kate began to sing, teasingly. "_There is just one thing I need…" _She continued.

"Why, Katie, you have a lovely voice." Castle complimented, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Well thank you, I'm flattered." She said sarcastically, and continued on into the chorus, "_make my wish come true…all I want for Christmas…is you…"_ By this time the snow had begun to fall heavier and both Kate and Castle had their hands stuffed deep into their coat pockets, and their scarves wrapped tightly around their necks.

The yellow caution tape could now be seen, and the rush of the crime scene unit overshadowed the sense of bliss that had been just moments before.

Looking at the crime scene, he felt something nudge his arm, it was Kate. Her eyes focused ahead, but she quietly sung, '_Santa Baby…won't you hurry down the chimney tonight." _She smirked, and ducked under the hideous yellow tape.

Smiling sheepishly, Castle looked back at the footprints they had created in the snow… "So she likes winter," he said under his breath, fog coming out from under his lips in light puffs; his mind was already churning away at this coming holiday season.

End note: Please Review!


	2. Miracles for Criminals

A/n: I've decided to continue the winter season stories. I don't know how many there will be, or what they'll be about. I'll just add to it whenever I feel like writing. Slightly Nutcracker inspired, but barely. _**Christmas story**_. Ha-ha, slightly inspired by the dedication in _Le Petit Prince_ by Antoine Saint-Exupéry. Castle and Beckett bicker as usual, this time about a murderer; a conversation about miracles ensues, hence the title.

Disclaimer: Castle's not mine. Beckett's not mine. New York City is not mine. Santa isn't mine. The Tooth Fairy isn't mine.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Miracles

"How do you tell somebody…" Castle inquired, he leaned back onto the dark wood that made up the wall of the near-ancient building. He seemed out of place today, shaky, like had drank just one extra double-shot and watched one too many horror films late last night. He looked rather uncomfortable, not like himself, fiddling with the button on his chocolate brown jacket and unconsciously shifting his weight. Detective Beckett had offered for him to stay in the car, but just because she offered it, he declined.

"Castle, this is the bad guy. We're here to lock up the bad guy. What are you talking about?" She asked, but he knew that she knew perfectly well what he had meant. She simply chose to be clueless.

Yes, she _chose_, because everything is a choice.

"You don't have to." He muttered, shutting his eyes as if he was under mental duress. He could feel her glare through his shut eyelids and he was afraid to open his eyes.

"What don't I have to do, Castle?" She sounded angry, again, she chose to be clueless.

"You know." He said, he didn't understand why this was so hard. She raised an eyebrow, he wished she would just stop. "She's….she's only seventeen, she's got no other real way to make money, she's barely started her life…and she's already got another life to deal with…she's a children's author for god Pete's sake!" He wasn't sure if he was angry, sad, or upset.

"Great. We'll just turn around then and head back to the precinct and tell the captain what you told me." She said sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips.

"Maybe she didn't do it." He tried.

"All the evidence says she did it." Beckett argued, she was becoming impatient.

"Maybe the evidence is wrong." Castle knew it was pointless. His face must of read, because she sighed the moment he began to speak and proceeded to entering the room.

The studio was stuffy, the smell of sweat, potato chips, and hairspray suffused through the air. Beckett eyed the girl, and she looked down, her shoulders slumped, her eyes tired -- she wasn't going to argue.

Willingly, she slowly walked towards Detective Beckett, her eyes never coming in contact with the woman standing in the front of the room. Castle almost flinched as he heard the 'click' on the handcuffs and watched as officers led her away while reciting her rights. He knew that she was barely listening.

When the reached the car, Beckett automatically pumped the heat up the highest and moved to start the car. She stopped mid-way though, and looked at Castle.

"What?" She asked. He couldn't tell if she was agitated.

"Nothing." He replied automatically, reclining his chair back slightly and focusing his eyes forward on the cold grey wall of the parking lot.

"Something's obviously bothering you and we're not getting out of here until you tell me what it is." She pulled the key out of the ignition and crossed her arms across her chest.

"You know what's bothering me." He said, biting his lower lip.

"She killed her baby, Castle. She deserves to be locked away forever for taking someone's life away." She explained.

"I know, I know." Castle persisted. "But, don't you think, in a way, the baby took her life away?" He anticipated her response.

"It was a week before Christmas. The kid never got to have his first Christmas; he never opened presents. He'll never get to turn one, or fall in love, or learn to drive. He'll never get his chance to be great."

"She'll never get to watch her son open his first presents, or tell him that Santa and the Tooth Fairy aren't real; she'll never get her chance to be great." He contested.

"She missed her window of opportunity." Beckett inhaled deeply.

"She dedicated her book to him."

"That one will be popular with the jury." Beckett murmured.

"A dedication means a lot, I should know. Maybe she acted on impulse, she was scared."

"She should have gotten help." Acknowledging that he wasn't going to win this argument, he gave up, letting a heavy silence fall over them.

"You know, Castle, that we aren't always going to agree?"

"Of course. I'm not five, I know things don't always go my way."

"But do you?" The Detective teased, hoping to see the slightest hint of a smile grace his usually cheery face.

"It's almost Christmas, there's miracles."

"Do you believe in miracles?" The topic of miracles and Christmas seemed to spark some of Castle's life back.

"Yeah, I do." She admitted.

"Really?"

"I was in San Francisco for Christmas one year. I wanted snow more than anything."

"It doesn't snow in California." Castle said.

"Are you going to let me finish my story?" He nodded. "I wished for snow, and it just…happened. I looked outside my window one morning, and it was snowing."

"A Christmas miracle." Castle said, his lips curving upwards just a little bit.

"Will you wish for me?" Castle asked.

"Wish for you?" Beckett looked confused.

"Will you wish for me that she'll be okay?" He felt his fatherly instincts kick in.

"Why can't you wish yourself?" She asked quizzically.

"My wish has been taken up my somebo— " He stopped. "Something."

"Maybe mine have been taken up my _something_ as well." She said, and he frowned. "Miracles happen, Castle."

"Yeah…someone's bound to be praying for her." He whispered quietly to himself, and she started the car out into the chaotic traffic filled streets of Christmastime New York City.

End note: Guess what? Please review.


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